Conflict of Interest (Employee Relations Book 1)

by Teresa Michaels

  Why anyone would juggle more than one relationship when even that’s more trouble than it’s worth is beyond me. Guarantee it’s only a matter of time before they find out about each other and shit blows up in his face.

  That’s another reason I cut my losses with Dara before moving. I don’t cheat. Never have, never will. And I avoid complications at all cost…which is damn near impossible when it comes to women. Despite my arrangement with Dara, which stemmed from convenience—or rather my drive to excel in my career instead of chasing tail and still satisfy my more primitive needs—I at least know that.

  I head to my room, lugging my bag and guzzling my beer along the way. Annoying as it may be, this situation is only temporary and I plan to spend as little time here as possible. I can manage anything for a couple of months.

  As if I need one more distraction, my phone buzzes with a call from an international number. Just what I need. Scowling at my phone is a waste of time. I wouldn’t know what to say even if I wanted to answer, which I don’t. It’s been eight years and nothing can undo the past.

  Nothing.

  I send the call to voicemail and set my phone on my dresser. I’ll have to remember to delete the message when I get out. The last thing I need is another reminder of how relationships of any kind are more trouble than they’re worth. Even the ones that are supposed to come naturally.

  I hang up my clothes, grab an old T-shirt and some sweats and take a shower. By the time I’ve finished, the apartment is nearly silent, save for the faint squeaking of my roommate’s bed. At least the living room is safe for another ten minutes. I grab another beer from the fridge and turn on the TV, being sure to sit in the chair next to the couch, and crank up the volume. The Celtics game just started but he’s a basketball fan. I’ll be trapped with him for at least three hours once he’s done and bonding with him is worse than having to interact with Gabriella, so I settle on something else.

  One and a half episodes of Mad Men later, Molly strolls out of the bedroom, grabbing a soda from the fridge on her way out. She’s an attractive girl. What she sees in him is beyond me. Glancing at my watch, I note it’s way past her usual timeslot.

  The door to the apartment closes behind her and the maggot comes out and drops onto the couch, sitting as close to me as possible.

  “We keep you up?” he punches me in the shoulder and barks out an annoying laugh.

  “You could say that.”

  “Sorry, not sorry, man.” He leans toward me, belting out a deep, throaty chuckle, and punches my arm again.

  Tomorrow’s priorities just changed. First on my list—find my own place to live.

  I toss back the rest of my drink and shrug him off. “To each their own, mate.”

  “I know, I know. You’re a proper English gentleman and I’m an asshole.” He says this with pride as he walks to the kitchen and grabs two beers from the fridge. “Not to worry though. Molly and Shannon know about each other. You’d be surprised by how much worse some of my friends are.” He laughs, handing me a bottle which I begrudgingly accept. “This one friend of mine, he’s had this gorgeous sidepiece for about a year. He’s getting married in like six months and he’s not gonna end it with the other chick till right before the wedding. Got it all planned out with a trip and everything. So you see…I’m not so bad.”

  The last thing I want to do right now is listen to him drone on about the weekly blow-by-blow of his sexual conquests, or explain to him the difference between being English and Irish. Still, it’s his apartment not mine and conversation with him doesn’t require much participation or thought. Biding my time until the next commercial break when I can casually ditch him, I nod when I should and then excuse myself.

  I fire up my laptop and get comfortable on my bed. By 2AM I’ve spent hours on self-paced product training and attempting to clean out my inbox. I’m exhausted. I haven’t had a major change in a few years and I’ve forgotten how draining it can be. Not that my thoughts have been solely focused on work.

  A good deal of the emails are from Gabriella, which immediately conjure up images of her looking at me over her shoulder while leaning across her desk. Sitting across the hall from a beautiful woman is one thing. Having that woman be untouchable, who’s role is the bane of my existence and who will likely be analyzing every move I make, is a whole different story.

  I should apologize or at the very least quit being an asshole to her. As much as I know that, I won’t. What value could she possibly add other than to be a meddling distraction? I’ve gotten to where I am on my own and I plan to keep it that way. I don’t need or want her help. At least not in a professional way, and it’s thoughts like this that will keep me from getting to Senior Vice President.

  Distance from her is what I need.

  I click on the first message but don’t get too far. At the top corner of the email is her picture. Great. She’s stunning in person and photogenic too. I click out of the email and delete it before moving on to the next one. I get through two emails before her names pops up again. Seeing her name repeatedly in my inbox inhibits my concentration. I sort my email by sender and highlight everything from her. I momentarily wondered if they contained important information and nearly laugh. Event reminders and an invitation to the fun committee are likely what I’d find.

  I right-click over the group of emails and delete them all.

  Chapter 4

  Lucas

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  31

  If anyone had told me when I was young that I’d grow up to be a glorified, adult babysitter, I’d have said they were crazy. Unfortunately, that’s my reality. At least this week when I’m swamped with employee relations issues.

  I can’t choose which issue has been more eventful. Could it be the conversation I had yesterday with an employee and their manager about hygiene? Talk about uncomfortable. I still haven’t decided what was worse – telling a grown man that, although we value him as an employee, others are complaining about his flatulence and overall body odor, or the way his manager dry heaved to the point of having to excuse himself not even five minutes into the conversation.

  Thank god I had the foresight to book a conference room.

  Or how about the group of co-workers who came to complain about their peer who was picking and saving her scabs in a jar on her desk? Unbeknownst to me, Dermatillomania is an actual disorder. The woman explained that in times of high stress, picking at her skin, and sometimes scabs, brings her relief. Her reason for keeping them? She’s also a hoarder and couldn’t bring herself to throw away a piece of her own flesh away.

  At least the conversation I’m currently mediating hasn’t made my stomach turn yet.

  “You reprimanded me in a room full of dozens of my colleagues for having bad oral skills,” the female employee shouts in horror.

  “You do!” the manager insists.

  My eyes go wide as saucers.

  “Could you please elaborate?” I interject, unsure if I really want to hear his explanation.

  “In meetings. She never make a point, only talk in circles. No one can follow,” he animatedly describes. “Bad. Oral. Skills.”

  For the love of God.

  “I believe you mean verbal,” I suggest, though it’s not really a suggestion.

  The manager is beyond exasperated. “Same thing,” he exclaims, and then proceeds to describe his subordinate’s issues with ineffective communication in further detail.

  Half the problem turns out to be that English is the manager’s second language. This annoys a lot of people, but not me. I cringe just thinking of the things I’d unintentionally say if I was sent to work abroad.

  Luckily, what started as a potential sexual harassment claim ends up being a simple misunderstanding. Or rather a translation error that required a lengthy conversation on why publicly reprimanding someone’s lack of “oral capabilities” is never appropriate. This was quickly followed by a discussion of w
hy sending an email to the team insisting that the woman’s blowjob skills were likely fine, would only make it worse.

  Apparently they both need training.

  An hour later, they leave my office in a better place, though I’m drained. I want an umbrella drink and a nap in that order.

  Despite the craziness that is my job, I can’t imagine doing anything else. And if I could just get the bastard across the hall to give me a chance, everything in my world would be right.

  It’s been three days since our first meeting and though I’ve tried to talk with him, he’s successfully avoided me like the plague. Aside from introducing him to Mike, the head of Global Sales and Marketing, we haven’t exchanged a word.

  That could be partially my fault. Mike asked Lucas to set up a time for the two of them to meet, and since Lucas hadn’t taken any of the documents I’d prepared for him, I knew there was a good chance he didn’t know Mike’s last name. He appeared slightly uncomfortable, yet I could tell he wouldn’t ask. Lucas excused himself and I couldn’t help myself. I quickly got Jack’s org chart and set it on his chair, along with a personal message on a pink sticky note.

  I couldn’t tell. Do you need me now?

  I guess he didn’t appreciate that. I’m officially getting the cold shoulder for the first time I can remember and it sucks.

  Thinking back to our first encounter, I cringe. In fact, the more I think about it the more clearly I see what an epic fail it was. Never in my career have I been taken off guard and deemed speechless by a coworker.

  Frankly, I’m still in shock. Who the hell treats someone that way when they’ve just met? One minute he was actively engaged in conversation, the next he basically called me worthless. But Lucas ignoring me isn’t the biggest problem. It wasn’t just his words that threw me off kilter; it was the way I reacted to his presence. The things you read about first encounters, feeling the person before laying eyes on them? It happened then and it continues to happen every time he’s near.

  Wearing my emotions on my sleeve isn’t something I’ve struggled with before. Yet the way he’s avoided me makes me wonder if my attraction was transparent. If that’s the case and I’ve made him uncomfortable, I’m not sure how to recover from that other than distance. And right now that’s not an option. This is why I’m outwardly on my best behavior, determined to win him over, or at the very least, kill him with kindness.

  At 11AM I grab my untouched breakfast from my desk and head to Jack’s weekly staff meeting. If I’m going to be forced to sit across a table from him for the next two hours, carbs will be necessary.

  Upon entering the room, I’m immediately thankful for my foresight. Low and behold, the only seat available is on the far side of the room, right next to him. Taking my seat, I allow myself to study his profile while he focuses only on his phone. I thought he was attractive before, but being this close only magnifies his chiseled jaw line, distinguished nose and long lashes. He’s gorgeous…like front cover of GQ gorgeous…and whatever cologne he wears is unfairly intoxicating, drawing a physical response from me that is completely wrong and excites me at the same time.

  Co-worker equals off-limits.

  Reminding myself of this when he’s in the same vicinity could be it’s own full-time job. So could replaying Jack’s words to me about Lucas before he started. He’s the future of this company, Gabby. Helping him be successful needs to be your priority.

  Ugh.

  While Jack sets up, and a few others finish their sidebar conversations, I decide to bite the bullet and break the ice.

  “Hey,” I say warmly, as if he hadn’t recently slammed a door in my face. “Almost through your first week. How’s it going?”

  He stills, waiting for a few beats before acknowledging me, as if he has to brace himself to be kind.

  “Gabriella,” he replies, curtly. “It’s going.”

  “Gabby,” I correct, though it falls on deaf ears.

  “Alright, everyone. Let’s get started.” Jack calls the meeting to order and scans the room. His eyes land on Lucas. “By now I’m sure you’ve all had a chance to meet Lucas.”

  Some people nod, others give a blank look and shrug. Jack doesn’t seem to notice either way and moves on to business. “Okay. I’m not one for beating around the bush. Our European sales have been down since the end of the fourth quarter of last year and Q1 wasn’t any better. Our annual trajectory is way off. Long story short, we’ve tried everything from incenting the sales force to sponsoring major customer events. The market share is too low in comparison to what the company has invested. I’m leaving for the UK tomorrow to meet with potential buyers.”

  Everyone sits forward. “It’s only the beginning of the second quarter,” Stan, the head of Product Management admonishes, followed by gasps around the room. Jack calls the meeting back to order.

  “We’re seriously divesting?” Lucas asks, seeming genuinely concerned.

  “Potentially. If we can secure a buyer. It’s either that or a miracle.”

  Lucas makes a “humph” sound and takes notes.

  Jack continues walking the team through our numbers. Slides of bar charts and other graphical representations of just how bad business is in the European market.

  “Could you go back a slide for a moment?” Lucas asks of Jack around slide six.

  The rest of the staff leans forward, their attention volleying between Lucas and the presentation. He eyes it, hmms, writes notes and then announces he’s good.

  Mike comments on the sales strategy that’s been put in place until the final decision regarding divesting is made. He throws out a few numbers, which Lucas flips into percentages. Observing the room it’s obvious everyone thinks he’s some kind of genius. They’re eating out of his hands when all the man has done is apply wisdom from an article on things to do in a meeting to look smart.

  Rephrase someone’s sentiments, ask to review a previous slide, take copious notes... Must be the accent. I bet if he said “dog shit tastes like chocolate” they’d all agree, but I’m not having it. I discreetly take out my phone and do a quick Google search. When I find the article I’m certain is driving his behavior, I send him a text with the link along with a message.

  Me: What’s your next move? A Venn diagram?

  His phone vibrates and he takes it out. I watch him open the link and scroll through the article. The corner of his mouth twitches briefly, though he doesn’t look my way. Quickly, he types back a response.

  Lucas: Thinking about pacing the room.

  I bite my lip to keep from laughing. He has a sense of humor. Thank God the man has at least one redeeming quality. How interesting that he actually replied.

  “If all goes well, Gabby will join me in the UK a few months from now to kick off due diligence. Each of you will have a role in the process, but there’s nothing more important than ensuring that employees are taken care of.”

  “Agreed.” Nearly everyone echoes the same sentiments.

  “Gabby, is there anything you’d like to add?”

  Turning to face Jack results in my leg pressing into Lucas’s thigh. Butterflies swarm my insides when instead of moving away, he presses his leg right back. Clearing my throat, I try to ignore the heat created between us.

  It’s just his leg.

  Everyone’s watching me yet it’s only Lucas’s stare that I feel.

  “I’m in the process of putting together our strategy for due diligence. While Jack is traveling I’ll be reaching out to all of you individually to discuss talent among other things. I understand everyone’s busy but you’ll need to make this a priority,” I reinforce Jack’s sentiments.

  Heating under Lucas’s gaze, I steal a sideways glance at him. His forehead creases under the weight of his concentration as if he’s processing a complicated equation. I wonder if he’s surprised that I actually do serve a purpose here. That or he’s constipated.

  Realizing that I’ve caught him gawking, he purses his lips and shifts in his chair. He t
hen removes his leg from mine before returning his focus to the meeting.

  “Shifting gears,” Jack announces. “As you’ll recall, Gabby has been doing excellent work on a recommendation for a new Elder Care Program. In a few weeks I’ll pitch the program to the board. I’ve asked Gabby to give us an overview of her findings. Gabby.”

  I begin my presentation with a statistical overview on the aging demographics of the American population, drawing correlations to the age of the company’s workforce to drive home the point that the majority of our employees are impacted by aging parents or grandparents. The slide builds out to then show the average cost associated with caring for an aging relative. I’ve included data and pictures of affordable facilities, be it nursing homes, rehabilitation centers or specialized centers that deal with conditions such as Alzheimer’s. When I describe the types of “care” these places give—one shower a week, twenty minutes of rehab a day, and meals that make high school cafeterias look appealing, it’s astounding the number of gasps I hear.

  And it’s exactly the reaction I’d hoped for.

  “We think this program will serve as an incentive for our employees as it’s unique and allows all of our employees to participate, whether or not their immediate family member is a dependent. If you’ll recall, a survey was conducted a few months ago asking employees to identify ideal program design and to determine the location and the type of care required. We used this information to design certain elements of the program and to identify top facilities.”

  I click to the next slide. “We’re partnering with these providers similar to how our Child Care Program partners with daycares in terms of honoring discounts. The only difference is that these facilities will constantly reserve a percentage of their availability just for relatives of our employees, who will get discounts of up to forty percent for their dependent for the duration of their employment with the company. If the employee leaves, they’ll have to pay full price.”